Tuesday, September 30, 2008




Whatcha lookin' at, skinny punk? Yeah. I know. I said I was putting this shit on hold till the shit stopped getting real. But you know what. I saw a bunch of you cock faggots bashin' on the milf. aNd I don't mean bristol. Damn retards keep flyin' out o fher cooch I can't plug it up in time, yo.

first off I saw this Story.

Local restaurant creates Palin sandwich

ANCHORAGE, Alaska-- A local restaurant is incorporating politics into its menu.

Lion's Den restaurant in Midtown Anchorage has created its own specialty: the McPalin Grilled Pig Sandwich. Lion's Den owner Dale Keefe says he normally keeps politics out of work conversation, but when he was making sandwiches with his crew last week, the big top news story was Barack Obama's comment, "You know, you can put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig."Obama's comment began Keefe's political food creation.

The McPalin sandwich has grilled pork tenderloin on it, with caramelized apples, red onions, melted cheddar cheese, and crisp bacon. Most food creators add some type of garnish such as parsley or fruit to top off their dish, but Keefe decided to do something a little more personal. The sandwich is served with a side of lipstick and fries. The McPalin grilled pig sandwich runs for about $13, and has been selling out.

W.T.F. $13 bucks? For a sandwich? For dat much I could just buy a couple of ounces and blow some smoke in the tard babies face. But then they get me on the fact that I'd be eating mrs. Palin. I think we all know how much of a milf she is. Oh man, I would take that Palin and munch on it all-night-LONG! Yeah!

Comes with a lipstick? Please, I come with a pink lipstick to have her put on her lips, if you get what I'm sayin'. Yo. And fuck you Obanana, with your lipstick comment. You made that bitch come home crying. I couldn't try to get my game on because of your trash talking. You never read the Game or anything? Shit man, you know how much of a pain in the ass it was trying to get some after that emotional shit? not even bristol wanted to give it up.

You can put lipstick on dez nuts
but they'll still be dez nutz.

The old dead dude was chilling back over here the other day. I thought he was dead sitting on the couch all pale and shit. I poked him with my bong and he woke up and was muttering about going to some star wars senate and voting. I told him votings for pussies and bitches, Which are you? Then he shut up. Yeah, that's right. Levi showing his mad pimp skillz.

He started babbling on about some vote to save the market from crashing and I was not even bothering to pay attention. Markets can't drive you stupid fuck. How would they crash? Anywayz, he realized I was spouting off wisdom and I popped in From Russia, with Love. That james bond movie is the shit, yo. He passed me his medical marijuana that he had cause of his huge boil on his face and we toke'd it up.

Look at that pussy act like he's Bond.
Faggot, you aint no bond! aND my tard baby
aint getting no tiara. I'm the only king of this castle

Then you got katie curic talking shit to her in front of her own face in them interviews. What the fuck. I bet you thin ass is just jealous that Palin was some hockey mom and was governor and shit. nOT like you who has what? A failed cbs news job? Shit, you should have just stuck to that morning news shit I used to flip on when I came home after banging bristol.

Bristol's been all stressed out that mrs. Palin is going to go stand infront of some hall on thursday and debate some old douche. I'm hoping that it helps in making this knocked up stuff go away. Cause I saw on house once that it happened that way. I don't got no money for champaign and the last time we tried that, we got retard baby and all. So no go on that shit, you hear.

You know what Im talkin' bout! YEAAH!

tHen when I was cleaning up Tards shit on the floor, cause I spent the diaper money on those Palin sandwiches, I read this shit.

Fatwa against Zardari for flirting with Palin

New Delhi: A Pakistani cleric has issued a fatwa against Pakistan President Asif Ali Zardari for flirting with US Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin.

Maulana Abdul Ghafar of Islamabad's Lal Masjid said that Zardari's behaviour was un-Islamic and that the President has shamed the entire nation.

The Maulana said that President Zardari's indecent gestures, filthy remarks and repeated praise of a non-Muslim lady wearing a short skirt is not only un-Islamic but also unbecoming of a head of state of a Muslim country.

That's what you get, new Deli. What the fuck, why didn't anyone tell me there was a new deli opening up? I'm tired of eating fucking rations. Maybe they have some moose meat. When I'm over at mrs. Palin's pad, she's always cramming those hockey pucks at me. Bitch needs to learn how to cook a burger without burning that shit, yo.

But what the fuck, why you messing with my baby momma's momma? Fuckin' faggot. I'll fucking go over to that deli of your meat till its thin as slices, fucking faggot. Don't you know I'm trying to get a mother-daughter shit going? Just like that bang bus video where the dude picks up the chick and at the end he doesn't even pay her ass! YEAH!

I gave her that crabs she has. Yeah, you heard me.

Now I hear shit talk about how she'll be nonanswering answering during that masterbate on thursday and I agree. bitch always gives me nonanswers to when I ask for a little bit of that ass, you know. STIll, no need to have the shit talk that is going around.

Anywayz, I'm done with dat shit. Talk to you mother bitches later. And just stop talkin yor shit about Palin. Bitch is smart, you can tell that by her glasses. Damn nerd girl glasses reminds me of those skinny bitches I made fun of in high school before I dropped out. You know, the ones I secretly wanted to bang while I was copping a fill on Bristol.

So be warmed, you fuckers. I got my eye on you, and my third eye on bristol. BOo-yah! catch you fags on the flip side.


- Levi "HOckey" Johnston

Monday, September 29, 2008

America's Final Will and Testimont.

America's Final Will and Testament.

If you are reading this then it must mean I am dead. I can only hope that this will and testament is being executed after a long and illustrious career as a great nation. I have surely made a lot of mistakes along the way, but I've always liked to think that my heart was in the right place.

Whatever end befell me, I hope that you can look back on my lifetime as the world leader as a period of unparalleled progress and liberty. If I was blown up somehow, well, that's how these things can go. I just hope that the rest of the world is doing okay and that the Communists aren't in charge.

I've had a lot of great leaders, some not so great ones. But hey, it was a good ride. So instead of remembering the rotten ones try to remember guys like George Washington, Abe Lincoln and the last good guy I had as a President. Try to remember the good wars where we kicked ass for freedom instead of all those creepy South American CIA wars. Picture in your mind's eye the Rocky Mountains at sunset and New York City after Guliani put all the homeless on a barge and sunk it in the Hudson, but before 9/11. Don't picture a superfund site in New Jersey with an eight-legged deer skeleton melting into toxic waste.

The properties dispensed in this document are only considered valid if they were in my possession at the time of death. If China or some multinational operating out of the Bahamas has them all then I'm sorry.

Enough calories for a week and twice the anus-searing heat of a curry!

To my dear friend England I leave all of my giant burritos and/or burritos as large as a human head. You have been my friend since the beginning, excepting a couple of wars there during my rebellious youth, and I have been happy to kick ass for freedom around the world with the Union Jack next to the Stars and Stripes. With me out of the picture it's up to you to become the world's fattest nation. I know you've got Indian food, but over here the giant burrito is my third world food of choice. You won't believe the size of these things and they come with extra cheese and sour cream. They're delicious! I'm sure with your cuisine of deep fried anything, you're right up there in terms of fat, but the Burritos can help and also be very delicious.

To my oldest friend, France, I leave Hollywood. I know you've been envying it since about 1910 and it kills you that I've been the world's purveyor of culture. May you use Hollywood to make a hundred million dollar black and white movie about a gay love triangles on trains. Imagine how many computer generated orcs Kieslowski could have put in the Three Colors trilogy with that sort of cash.

To Canada, so close and yet so far away, I leave all of my stockpiles of medical marijuana. I grew some really top shelf sticky icky, but I could never quite let the terminal cancer patients have any for fear that devil weed would fuel a crime spree. I also leave you all of my Sun Chips and Funions. Do with them as you must.

To my homie Mexico I bequeath America's favorite bread-wrapped meat; the corn dog. Reverse engineer its wooden stick technology and create a bright tomorrow of delicious chicken tacos on sticks. Oh what the hell, keep the whole Hot dog thing as well. I've seen your children wrapping them up in bacon and cooking them on a metal sheet after SoCal events. Leaving it in your hands seems only natural. I also leave you Texas. You won at the Alamo so I don't remember how I ended up with it, but I'm willing to bet it involves mescal.

To the tribes indigenous to North America I leave all of my blankets, comforters and bedding. I promise that there is nothing weird with it and it's perfectly harmless. In fact, it's mostly high thread count Egyptian cotton.

Seeking a final solution to the contract arbitration question.

To Germany
, the friend I love to hate, I leave a fantastic gift with a poisonous sting. I entrust you with the American automotive industry, rich in history and monolithically vast. But along with this bounty comes the entire workforce with their bloated pensions, to be paid out until the day they die. Hey, maybe you can figure out an efficient way to kill off millions of people you view as money-grubbing interlopers.

To Austria I leave all of America's barbecues and shrimp boats as an apology for all of the idiots that think you are Australia. Red, white, red, until the gnarley sheila is dead!

To Australia I leave my entire arsenal of ICBMs. I think you have been out of circulation on the nuclear targets list for way too long. Now don't get pissed off at me, it's not all bad. Next time one of your citizens gets caught with five kilos of cocaine up her ass by Balinese customs you can threaten to turn Denpasar into a glass-rimmed crater.

To Russia, I know we've almost never seen eye-to-eye, but I'm giving you Alaska. Till recently I figured it was too far away from anyone but Canada to enjoy, but it was brought to my attention that it's your next door neighbor. So hey, why not. Enjoy. I'm doing it mostly to fuck with Canada's head, but I'm sure you can transform its millions of acres of pristine wilderness into one of those grim industrial hells you seem to fancy.

To Norway I say that I support your arts and I hereby bequeath all of my mega churches. May their burning inspire a thousand songs about frosted skulls and dire goblyns.

To the Netherlands, with the world's highest percentage of atheists, I leave America's Baptists. It's called Schadenfreude.

Ceci n'est pas une pommes frites!

To Belgium, secret master of the french-fry, I donate all of my ketchup and ketchup manufacturers. All of those sissy European sauces and toppings are just pure silliness, and you'll realize that once you have some good old down home ketchup. Mayonnaise? Don't make me puke up Florida.

To Cuba, my wee nemesis to the South, I leave all of the Walt Disney parks. I hope they can make up for all of that tourism money you've missed out on since the revolution. I'm sure Walt Disney won't mind, just stick his frozen head in a giant mojito. I also leave you all the mugs America has. Even those silly ones with "#1 DAD" on them. Why? Have you've seen the cups you drink coffee out of? Way too small. So enjoy Cuba, now you'll be living large.

To troublesome Iraq I leave one million copies of Robert Persig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I've never actually read it, but when I was dating that one chick in Valencia, she was always going on about it. So I went ahead and picked up a copy of it and I have to tell you, freshmen psych majors around the campus would stop and chat thinking I was a pretty chilled out country and then I would get them drunk and have sex with them. I'm pretty sure a lot more sex is what Iraq needs to heal the wounds of strife.

To that special lady Burkina Faso I leave NASA and all its assets. You will always be Upper Volta to me - the most sensual of the Voltas - and I have long cherished those nights we spent together. We held each other beneath the night sky and watched meteors burn across the starry heavens. Now you can launch rockets there to rekindle our love.

To the Moon, most exotic of all my lovers, I bequeath the coastal oceans of North America. Their gentle carress against my shores reminds me of the tender way we once loved in that cold beyond of space. The way we touched, so gentle and fleeting, the way you took my lander into your tranquil seas. I wil never get you out of my head. I can only hope that you and Burkina Faso can become friends. I suppose it'll always be the case since I was first to walk all over you. My foot prints still on you. You have to admit, when I planted my flag on you... it was magic.

To Iran, whom I have never understood, I leave all of my M.C. Escher posters and puzzle books. I hope they screw with your head like you have always screwed with mine.

To Israel I leave New York City and Brooklyn. You're a great hunk of land, but maybe think about urging your people to go ahead and move to these two inheritances. Nobody really seems to get along with you where you are now.

Trust me and just make houses out of them. The Virtual Jenna Jameson ones have these creepy fake cumshots that will mess with your head.

To the jungle tribes of the Amazon River I leave all of America's multi-angle interactive adult DVDs. I know you probably don't have any DVD players, but you can use the discs as some sort of weapon or decoration. Actually, there are about 500 million of them, so you can probably use them to build a massive city with aqueducts and roads. Cream My Gape volumes 1-87 should make great load-bearing structures.

To each of the nations of South America I leave two things: my sincerest apologies and the CIA bases I used to overthrow your leftist governments in the latter half of the 20th century. I wish I could tell you where they are, but there are just so many I can't quite remember them all. I think Nicaragua's CIA base was inside a hollowed-out tree with a suspicious radio transmitter sitcking out of the top.

To Taiwan, one-time junk basket of the United States, I leave all of my airplanes and helicopters. Those decades of filling my vending machines and dollar stores with crap eventually paid off and turned you into a first world country. Let's face it, though: one of these days China is going to get sick of you lording your standard of living over them and it's going to invade. Fly all of those airplanes and helicopters to Japan and ask really nicely if you can stay.

To inscrutable Japan I leave the Hank Williams Junior and Senior discographies. I was going to give you the Enola Gay for a museum or something, but I still don't really trust you so I'm just going to throw it in with the other crap I gave Taiwan. Oh yeah, and all the nations panties. I have no idea what the hell you sick freaks do with them, but I'm not one to judge... Ok, I am, and frankly my disgust comes all the way from my bible belt. But I really did you wrong with those bombs, so I owe you one.

South Korea, buddy, I tried but those damn Chinese had to interfere. I hope eventually you can get your top half back and live in harmony. Until that day comes I'm leaving you Best Buy. You pretty much fill it up in the first place, so I figure I'll save you the time and you can just drive the trucks straight from the Samsung factories to the Best Buy stores.

Finally, to China, I leave this warning: I know you did this to me. I can't prove anything, because I'm dead, but friends and family should definitely investigate the possibility that I was murdered. Assuming you did murder me - and I am assuming that - I am going to haunt the shit out of that Forbidden City of yours. Everyone is going to be like, "Hey, what is that cold wind?" and you're just going to have to shake your head and say, "Freakin' America again."

I know a lot of you countries out there are probably feeling a little hurt right about now, wondering why your name didn't show up in my will. I admit, I was getting a little stressed out at the end there and ran out of paper after printing waaaay too much money, so I might have forgotten a few of you, but most of you I didn't leave anything because I gave you everything I could during my lifetime.

Except for the African countries. You guys, well, sorry. You're pretty much screwed forever, so there's no point leaving you anything cool that might make you think you have a chance.

Anyway, good luck, world. I hope you guys build a cool statue to me or something. Make it out of something that kids can't deface. Maybe the world's first electrified statue.

Try to keep things under control.

With Love,


Sunday, September 28, 2008

Hate Floats

Hate Floats

I've always been counter Internet culture. If a large number of people find something entertaining, interesting or funny, chances are I've mocked it, hated it or probably ridiculed it for no reason other than the fact that I'm an insecure twenty-somethings who didn't do too well in school, didn't fit in with the other kids, and has little prospects for a future that doesn't involve spending long nights spamming my resumes to various temp agencies desperately hoping something will stick. Or maybe I'm just projecting.

But hey, usually my hate for things on the Internet is focused on others and not on myself, unless I can convince myself that I was there at the start of the fad. Then it's awesome, like Pokey the Penguin.

Check out this awesome Flash game!

I've seen things, things you wouldn't believe. I was there at the start of All Your Base, the highs of It's a Trap, the lows of and lows of Goatse.cx. I witnessed lemon party long before it become some 30 rock joke. Who else besides Dave Chappelle flips out over catchphrases like I do? I'm so full of hate I hate being on the ground floor of the internet's greatest successes!

I've scoffed at other web sites that have chosen to not to act like massive dicks to everyone they come into contact with. What do they have to show for it besides millions of dollars? Not resentment and jealousy, two traits that have made America what it is today, that's for sure.

That's why, when I consider my long history of acting like an inhuman monster, it disturbs me when I realize that I'm starting to well... like things.

What happened to me? It seems like only yesterday I was bashing myspace, mirror pictures and blogs in general as anything other than a spawn of live journal and the emo invasion. I would never take advice from strangers on the internet as to where to eat like I do now on Yelp. No way would I be saying catch phrases like Zerg Rush or Haxor the Gibson. I'm getting sloppy in my old age.

It ends up that the phrase "you become what you hate" is true. It was only natural to happen. A sort of Stockholm syndrome that effects those with Asperger syndrome first and then eventually works it way to the normal folks on the internet. Surrounded by this online culture whenever I come on to check my spam filled mail box, it was only a matter of time before the hater became the hated.

It's time to band together and re-join the collective internet social hive mind. Here's what I forgot to hate.


Why you love it now: In 2002 the founder of Newgrounds founded a video game development company called The Behemoth that would be tasked with porting some of its more popular Flash games to consoles. Yeah, really.


The Behemoth enjoyed success with its first foray into the wonderful world of console ports, Alien Hominid, which was basically a rip off of Metal Slug. However, instead of playing Metal Slug people somehow felt compelled to buy it for the Gamecube and again on the Xbox 360. Unfortunately, most of Newground's audience was still in diapers when Metal Slug was released and might possibly still be.

With The Behemoth's latest release titled Castle Crashers, users are finding themselves digging deep in order to purchase some Microsoft fun bucks for the privilege of downloading what basically amounts to Turtles in Time but with some RPG elements tacked on. Sorry, but I didn't play Turtles as a kid and lament that I couldn't level up Donatello. Everything old is new again with RPG elements! Any jerkoff will buy your game as long as you can level up. Ding! Now that this is aired out, can we put an end to all this leveling up? I went outside and killed some grass hoppers and gained no life experience. It just doesn't work this way Video game companies.

Because The Behemoth is billed as an indie company it makes them somehow less evil than the likes of EA. Sorry, but I just can't support things like Q&A, online multiplayer working out of the box, and saved games not suddenly disappearing for no reason. I heard Larry Probst personally raped every single underpaid programmer at EA. It's enough to make an anonymous housewife stick up for her pussy husband on LiveJournal.

What you forgot to hate: Newgrounds is the clearinghouse for every crappy flash animation featuring Sonic fighting Goku or Mario and Mario shits his pants for some reason, made by guys who just finished downloading Adobe Flash CS3 Professional. That Newgrounds doesn't at least owe part of its fortune to The Pirate Bay would be hard to believe.

The clientele is every loser who wore a Slipknot shirt in junior high school and quotes Borat in college. Newground's success in the world of console games should only infuriate you more.

Penny Arcade

Why you love it now: Score another one for the "indie game developers can do no wrong" crowd, though I never imagined in a million years that a couple of guys would be able to finance a series of games off a damn web comic. If I weren't so full of irrational hatred I'd be pretty damn impressed.

Penny Arcade is making a game? Well that sounds kind of dum- YOU MEAN IT'S AN RPG?! Count me the hell in!

Expecting a backlash against the gruesome twosome's video game debut I was shocked to find that Penny Arcade's game was, gasp, well-received by the general masses.

And then I realized it has RPG elements. Well there you go.

What you forgot to hate: The fact that these guys achieved an incredible amount of success and your comic about dudes with 'tudes who play video games and are occasionally reprimanded by a stereotypical female character who is always complaining about her period and the hands are never in proportion to the rest of the characters' bodies never got off the ground.

Most of all, have you've seen these guys in person? Not at all like their comic self. Harvey Pekar may look like he's the poster boy for NPR and This American Life, but at least American Splendor is true to the characters. I bet I say something mean about the two I can get a feud going between them. Wouldn't that be exciting?

Can you imagine what the Internet would be like without petty feuds? It'd be a place to communicate with people who are different than you. It'd be a place to learn new things, enrich your life and the lives of others, and help make the world a better place. An Internet without drama and the web sites devoted to cataloging that drama? I can't imagine such an Internet.

Then there's the factor that they unleashed hell in the form of the now situational web comic typecast roles. You need two human characters. Just change out the hair and cloths so you can recycle the face. Toss in a random animal or object that can talk. With all that you have yourself your very own comedy web comic.

So when a couple of otherwise okay guys attempt to make a couple of bucks through a collaborative vision, hard work and determination, just say no. We don't tolerate that sort of bullshit around here.

Web 2.0

Why you love it now: I signed up on Twitter. The Horror...The Horror

What you forgot to hate: Just because you submit yourself to the glorious hive mind mentality of constantly maintaining communication doesn't mean you have to sign up to everything. Jesus.

Anyway, Twitter continues to become more popular than anything in the free world as days go by. The site allows users to send and receive text messages from friends and family about any old thing. It isn't exactly new technology but it's the ease at which messages can be sent and received.

Well what do you know, access to a seemingly endless supply of images of breasts does get boring.

From your profile you can type in a short message about what you're currently up to. Those who "follow" you receive the message on their phone. Conversely, you may receive a message like, "Just got out of the shower, soaking wet, looking to get fucked tonight -Mom".

With the ability to send and receive messages to and from your friends about every little thing you are doing, it only leads me to one question, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT WHEN YOU MEET UP WITH THOSE PEOPLE?

"Oh hey! I was just at the store and you won't believe who I saw!"

"You told me on Twitter."



"Okay, see you on Twitter then."

One of the benefits of leaving the house to go do something is being able to come back and tell someone everything you did. Usually that person doesn't care, so why would they want to sign up to receive real-time status reports about you? And yet they do.

It appears that communication is an activity that's best avoided unless it can be done in bite-sized nuggets and as inane as possible. Twitter makes it easy to transmit any superfluous thought you may have such as "Do you think John Ritter is boring God in heaven right now?", otherwise these thoughts would just stay in your head. And who would want that?

Social Networking Sites in General

Why you love it now: You're reading this on one now.

What you forgot to hate: Because you're reading this on one now.

It goes to show you that any yahoo with a computer, a keyboard, and some sort of six degrees of separation from someone hot can try to meet you. 10 years from now people will question how anyone met new friends before the internet. The scary aspect of all this is that it now outnumbers porn as the most clicked on item on the internet.

Think about it people. PORN! My grandpa spoke about the great depression. How without any booze and any money, the only thing that kept him going for those 13 years was that he could get a peek at some ladies legs at the peep show for 3 cents. Sure, he had to boil a boot for food, but on the flip side he wasn't bombarded with friend request followed by "THANKS FOR THE ADD!!" whenever he went to see some bare shins.

Sign off..... after you've read this, of course.

The majority of the time spent on these sites is in an effort to get laid. So perhaps it passing up porn isn't that much of an issue since in the end of things, the web is being used to get your rocks off.

Even worse is that it's not limited to your Goth teenagers anymore. Pets can actually jump in on the social networking on sites like Catster /Dogster. It's important that your pets have a social life. Then maybe they'll stop bugging me to take them for a walk or scratch their butt as they can get one of their pet friends to do that for them.

Are you back with me now? I thought I lost you there for a while. Now that I write all this out and get it in the open, perhaps I'll sufficiently retrained in the art of hating everything I hate (well, the four examples I could think of anyway), the healing process can begin.

I recommend making slanderous claims about web comic authors you don't think are funny, not accepting friend request from spam, bands or anyone else for that matter on myspace. I've always hated those people! How dare they try to be my friend!

Oh, joy! It's like I never stopped hating these things.

Friday, September 26, 2008

A Cat Named Charlie

A Cat Named Charlie

Not to stray from the usual mindless comedy that I seem to scribble about, but I just need to vent this out. It's weighing heavy in both my head and heart causing a sort of sadness. At the same time I can't help but think that I did all I could. That I helped extend the time and quality in someone's life. And that in itself is the only saving grace right now.

My neighborhood is full of stray cats. It seems a common practice for ignorant families around here to get their ill prepared children kittens or puppies when they are small and cute. Soon after they start shredding everything in sight they toss the animal out on the street to fend for themselves.

A tired cat? How rare a sight!

Here's where I come in. I first saw Charlie as a starving stray cat afraid of everyone and anything. Hiding under cars and searching for the next meal. He would be seen when night fall came. I decided to put out some food for him under the cars.

To be honest with you, he didn't look like he would survive for long. He looked too far gone in terms of thinness. I took out some Starkist tuna for him and he slowly worked his way closer to me eventually letting me pet him. Every night he'd show up around Six or so. He slowly started becoming a friend of mine. I felt good in feeding him. Allowing him to worry about one less thing.

Named after the mascot of the tuna I shared with him, he started becoming a regular around the parts. Slowly moving from slinking along under the cars to eventually jogging towards me every time he saw me outside, he would start following me everywhere I went on the block. Not just for food. Nah, he would stick around after I fed him or if he wasn't hungry he'd just relax there on the curb with me at night when all was silent.

Eventually I tried to make him an indoor pet. Sure, on a long enough time line the survival rate of anyone drops down to zero, but the difference between an outdoor cat and an indoor cat's lifespan is vast. Pets that live outdoors live on average two years. Indoor pets live twelve to fifteen. So I wanted to try to get him off the streets and into a warm house.

I let him in during the winter months. He would come in the morning hours after a long night on the street and sleep for most of the day. When the night came he'd start becoming stir crazy wanting to get out. He was at home on the streets. I'm guessing he either was never someone's pet or was tossed out at a really young age. So all he knew was a life on the street. I tried my best but eventually the street instinct won out. He chose his path and I couldn't have changed his mind. It's true what they say. You can't make a stray a house cat.

He was thankful for the food and I allowed him to relax indoors if he wanted to, but during the summer months he stopped wanting to come in at all. He'd eat his food and hang around outside. Never straying too far. It was his turf and he was going to be there. When I went out to take out the trash he would come with me side by side just looking up. If I walked up the block he would pop out and join me by my side.

He wasn't too keen on the flash

It was a good friendship and you could tell that he appreciated all that I did for him. It was the least I could do in leaving a bowl of food and water on the side.

The last few days have been the standard norm. I put out food for him, he would hang around. Last night he followed me to take out the trash and I picked him up and got some dry brush off his fur and he went on to spraying some cars. I petted him some and then went inside. He wanted nothing to do with being inside. I figured he wanted some place warm during the winter but didn't want to rest while the summer months were in full swing.

Today I found him dead on the side walk from what was clearly a dog attack. Which confused me because there's many places he could have run to. He's nervous about anyone else that isn't me. So it must have come as a surprise. At least that's what I'm telling myself to find some comfort that he didn't suffer. It hit me hard. Really hard.

Once again I found myself digging a grave for a stray. I refuse to put an animal in the trash. It was his turf and so he'll be buried there, I said to myself. I've done this before for a different stray that decided home was my parents house and my mother unofficially adopted him. But with Charlie I felt awful.

Must have been a lazy Monday

I didn't see him at all during the night hours I would normally. I put food out and when checked, it was eaten. But I hadn't seen him till I saw the body. During the night I heard a dog bark, but I don't know where that falls into it.

Part of me is wondering if only I checked out there earlier or if only I went out to see what was that bark about. But that part of me is stupid. I couldn't have done anything for him by the time I got out there. The way he was after the attack, I didn't hear him.. and he had a very loud voice when it comes to fighting, so if he was caught off guard, there's nothing I could have done to save him after the attack.

I toss that way of thinking aside and focus on the positive. He was cared for and he had company. I don't doubt for one minute that if I hadn't fed him two years back, he would have been dead shortly after. I find comfort with that. You can't stop death from happening, but you can change the quality of life for them with the time they have.

I'll miss the company walking by my side to the trash can as if he was my side kick. But he lived a life longer than what he would have otherwise and he did it with a human that he considered his friend or pseudo owner.

I thought of Castaways supporting cast member
as somewhat relating to this friendship.

In that extra year and half/two year time he knocked up another female stray that came around the parts. I took her in and she had the kittens. Which along side her were given good homes. One of which looked exactly like him. After that the spaying/neutering was a must. I was lucky to find homes for all those kittens, but the idea that he was out there creating more strays bothered me. There was enough strays out there. No animal should have to live life like that. It's no life for anyone or thing

Both his quality and quantity of life went up because of me and that's where I'm feeling like I made some change. That while it's tragic that he's not here anymore, that I gave him an extension to life and he was always happy to see me. So that extra time was spent happily. His choice was to be a free cat. Along with that lifestyle comes the dangers of being outside. While many other cats would have chose a life indoors, your heart was set on being free but being friendly.

I knew that one day he'd die because of the higher risk living outside, but it's a hard pill to swallow. I'll miss the little guy. But this does bring up a current news piece I want to put some attention on.

On October 1st it'll become law that your pets after four months of age need to be spayed or neutered. It's been on the books for a while as you can read from the LA TIMES and finally coming to pass. I couldn't agree more with this action. Unless you're some breeder with pure bred animals, which 99% of pet owners aren't, there is no reason why your pet should be able to reproduce. It'll only inflate an already large animal population, but if you really want another pet, adopt one. Shelters are over flowing with good pets that long for a home and a loving owner.

Not to mention the amount of animals put out on the street because they were knocked up or the puppy/kitten stopped being cute or was born to an owner who just doesn't care. It only leads to hardship for the animal. Not to sound like Bob Barker here but I beg that you spay or neuter your animals. If you notice strays around your area look into local Catch and Release programs. They'll capture the strays, spay/neuter them and bring them back to their neighborhood if they can't find a home to adopt them. All these options are better than having strays out there living their life scavenging for food. There's really no reason not to with the amount of financial aid they help you with if you're worried about the cost.

So to you, Charlie. I raise my glass of single barrel Jack Daniels and have a drink remembering our time together. You knew you were loved and your company was always welcomed. It'll be strange and sad around here without you out there.

Secret Moves In Star Wars: The Force Unleashed

Secret Moves In Star Wars: The Force Unleashed

Star Wars: The Force Unleashed bills itself as the forciest Star Wars game to date (runner up: Yoda's Desktop Adventures). You take on the role of Galen "Starkiller" Marek, Darth Vader's secret apprentice and force-sensitive equivalent of a Harlem Globetrotter with a repertoire of powers so extensive that the developers ran out of feasible button combinations to execute them.

Only a quarter of Marek's moves are documented in the game itself. For some reason Lucas up in his fortress in Hippie town decided that releasing a phone book size instruction was not in the cards. The rest are fully implemented in the game's engine, waiting for players with enough memory and patience to pull them off.

The following button combinations are for the Xbox 360 version of Force Unleashed. If you are playing on the Playstation 3, simply replace the A B X Y buttons by "tapping" the morse code of each letter with rapid up-and-down movements of the Sixaxxis motion controller.

The force levitates your enemy, then passes a hula hoop around their body to show that no wires are being used.

Marek grimaces and twirls his hands around erratically, leaving behind glowing trails of the force as a throbbing techno beat thumps away. While this move is active, Marek converts the attention of other people into health and genuinely believes he is creative and talented.

Performs a force-colonoscopy on a stormtrooper. Any polyps that are discovered will be removed, then placed directly on the stormtrooper's tongue.

Initiates Marek's idle animation.

You know Scanners, the movie where people's heads blow up? This takes control of your enemy and forces him to recreate the most memorable part of that movie, where a guy walks from one side of the room to another.

Causes Greedo to shoot first no matter if there is no Greedo in that part of the game.

Begins a lengthy and unnecessary explanation that the Force is actually Midi-Chlorians. Affects all enemies within 100 feet, causing them to shake their heads so violently that they suffer severe concussions. God damn you Lucas!!!

Turns an enemy Jedi/Sith's lightsaber limp and they run away crying in shame claiming "This never happens to me".

The force swirls round and round, forming a tornado capable of destroying Wookiee-built trailer homes and nothing else.

Correct someone's grammar during a cutscene.

Uses the force to choke an android. Lasts as long as it takes to realize that this has no use.

Warhammer Online
When you duck into a cave to take a quick breather from PVP and come face to face with a reanimated dwarf skeleton sporting a full beard, you'll realize that this is the greatest MMO ever made. 9/10

Crysis Warhead
So good, it makes the first half of Crysis look like the last half of Crysis. 8/10

Star Wars: The Force Unleashed
Almost enough to take away the pain inflicted on us by Star Wars: The Clone Wars - almost. 7/10

Rock Band 2
The best content pack + minor patch disguised as a sequel you'll ever buy! 8/10

Summer Athletics: The Ultimate Challenge
The ultimate challenge: finding a reason to play yet another collection of straightforward minigames. 4/10